Lights
by AQueenoftheStars
Summary: A tale of adventures and accidents, museums and mayhem, and an incredibly cute director named Maurice.
1. Somebody That I Used to Know

Notes: This story is, in part, inspired by and dedicated to all the fan fiction writers I've read over the years that had the fantastic idea to interweave all of the cartoons from my childhood into one storyline. I've read many fantastic renditions of this idea, though not all of them complete, and so you have the story before you. I hope you've enjoyed it and pray inspiration strikes again so that this tale doesn't stay a one-shot. Credit for the chapter title goes to Gotye.

**Lights ~ Late November**

**Chapter 1: Somebody That I Used to Know **

She swirled the drink in her hand, watching the neon liquid trace the edges of the martini glass. The taste puckered her lips as she took another sip and set the glass down.

She'd left work an hour ago, sitting and sipping at her drink for the second half of it, as she had most nights. The drinks were cheap, and after parking her car back home, it was an easy quarter mile from her second story apartment to the bar.

Her hands were still ink stained from the faded pages she'd been cataloguing earlier and a cursory glance in the bar's back mirror showed dark circles and smudges beneath her hazel eyes. At least, she wasn't trying to impress anyone.

"Hey honey, going to want another?"

Eliza turned to the bartender, a slim woman with delicate tattoos snaking up her wrist, black hair, and a penchant for purple lipstick.

"No thanks Sam. I'll probably call it a night."

"You look like you could use it. Another late night at the museum?"

"Only when I'm not partying with rock stars." Sam laughed and leaned in conspiratorially.

"You know," she whispered, "that guy at the end has had his eye on you all night." Sam's eyes practically glittered with excitement.

Eliza glanced at the man Sam was indicating. He was fiddling with his glass and staring into his drink with deep intensity. Eliza turned an incredulous look at Sam, who merely winked and headed into the back.

Shaking her head at her barkeep turned wishful matchmaker, Eliza looked again at the man at the end of the bar and caught him staring. In a ridiculously endearing fashion, his cheeks lit up like sunrise and he grinned at her, both cheeky and bashful. He put down his drink, walked the few feet around the bar and extended a hand.

"Hello, my name is Maurice and I promise this isn't just a line, but, do I know you?"

She instinctively grabbed his hand and gave it a firm shake. "Eliza. And, I'm sorry but I don't think you do."

He held on to her hand still shaking it as he inspected her, and she could imagine the gears in his head turning. "Eliza, Eliza..." He muttered to himself before beaming. "Eliza Thornberry! Oh I knew, I knew you!"

Eliza's eyebrows raised, and she smiled in a confused way. "Um...yes. Do I know you?"

He finally released her hand, which she quickly retracted, and sat himself in the stool beside her, laughing. "Yeah, yeah, I guess I'd be hard to recognize now that I'm not covered in helmets and elbow pads anymore."

Eliza's eyebrows rose, if possible, higher.

"Oh you really don't remember? God, what was it, ten, twelve years ago? I think I was fifteen so it must've been about twelve. Your parents were in Ocean Shores studying some kind of seal or otter migration and your crazy motor house broke down outside my..."

"Sea lions!" She suddenly exclaimed, her brain finally making the connection. "We were following the sea lion migration in Southern California." Her mind was suddenly blazing down the Pacific Coast Highway, the trademark braids she'd worn until her late teens flicking her in the face as she stuck her head out of the RV's window inhaling the sea salted air. Shaking herself from the reverie, she glanced back at her companion. "Oh my god... Twister?"

He grinned sheepishly at her, seemingly glad that she'd stopped giving him a look of utter confusion, and laughed, "Yeah, though no one really calls me that anymore. Well except Otto, but he's a stubborn one."

Eliza smiled at him, "Wow, yeah it's been a lifetime and a half. How are you? Still making movies?" She recalled the camcorder he'd had practically glued to his hands when they were young. She tried imposing her memory of him, young and gangly with too many freckles, his dirty blond hair sticking out of that ridiculously large reggae style hat with this new, older Twister. Maurice. He wore a plain blue tee beneath an unbuttoned black vest; he'd lost the hat and his hair was cropped short, but longer, and curling, in the front; and beneath his tan jeans, black canvas shoes peeked out. While his clothing choices had surely matured, his face still retained that boyish charm, a quality which was only accentuated when he smiled.

"Yeah actually. I'm kind of escaping a screening right now."

Her brows furrowed, "A screening?" She glanced at the clock above the mantle. It was five minutes to two. "Isn't it a bit late for that?"

Maurice just laughed. "You'll find that the movie industry is more of a nocturnal occupation. Suits me just fine though." He stretched across the bar to grab the drink he'd left behind, and Eliza caught a glance of the official looking badge pinned to the hem of his shirt.

Maurice Rodriguez, Director

_ Wow_, she thought, _I guess some of us do get to live out our dreams._

He turned back to her, still grinning. "So what have you been up to these long years?" A confused expression crossed his face and he leaned closer to her. Eliza leaned back ever so slightly. "Is that...marker on your face?"

Eliza just barely resisted pressing her fingers to her cheeks, knowing that that would only exacerbate the problem.

"It seems you've hit the nail on the head already. I've just come from work."

"Work with...markers?"

She smiled, rolling her eyes, recalling the occasional dopey remark her childhood friend could sometimes utter.

"I work over at the Natural History Museum."

A conflicted expression crossed Maurice's face. "Oh that sounds...fun?"

She laughed. "Don't worry, I get that a lot. But really, it's gratifying work and I get to study and handle artifacts from all over the world. It's like traveling like I did as a kid, but I get to go home to an actual house at the end of the night." She paused. "Well, an apartment at least."

His smile grew genuine again and Eliza's stomach did the tiniest flip at the sight. "Well at least you're doing something you love."

He knocked back the last dregs in his glass, missing as her smile slipped the tiniest bit. Still smiling, he stood up. "Well I should probably be heading back. The movie will be ending soon and what's a Q and A with the director without the director, am I right?"

She smiled chuckling, "What indeed."

Maurice pulled out his cell phone, stalling for a moment as he checked the screen. "Listen, it was really great bumping into you, mind if I get your number, that way next time we can do it on purpose."

Her cheeks grew slightly warm at the comment, but she shoved the feeling away. "Of course." She listed off her number and felt the vibrations in her pocket as he messaged her. He pulled worn leather wallet out and counted out a few bills before placing them beneath the whiskey glass he'd emptied and turning to leave.

"Oh, Twis...I mean, Maurice." He pivoted towards her, hands stuck in his back pockets. "Just before you go. You mentioned Otto, how are the others doing?"

He grimaced in an amused way. "Well Otto and Reggie ended up opening a store together way back, it didn't do so well as an actual shop, but now they've got an all online company going and they're doing pretty well. Though Reggie's had to put the company in her brother's hands these last few months, what with the baby and all."

"Baby?" Eliza's eyes bugged slightly as she recalled the girl in her memory, older by a few years and a head taller, with hair so black it gleamed purple, she remembered admiring the strength and independence and utter nonsense logic of the surfer girl. She'd been such a tomboy back then, it was hard imagining her as a mother.

"Yeah, she's fit to burst. Gotta be in her last month or so."

"But who's the..."

Maurice's phone began to sing from his pocket and he gave her an apologetic look. "Sorry, I really have to go. I'll call you, let's have dinner or something. Soon." He flipped open the phone and cradled it to his ear, giving her a wave as he slipped out the door.

Eliza sank back against the back of the stool. _Well that was unexpected_, she thought.

Sam, who had been busily clearing up glasses and giving her friend space with the cute guy from the end of the bar, approached and began clearing the drinks on the bar.. "Ok, Liz, spill. You guys were chatting up a storm."

"Oh, he knows me. Knew me. I knew him when we were kids."

Sam's face fell. "Oh, well that's less exciting. He is cute though." She commented glancing towards the door he'd so recently disappeared through. "You should have at least gotten his number."

Eliza remembered the movement in her pocket. "Oh, I did."

She pulled out her phone, the screen blinking about one received message. She clicked read and felt that same flip in the pit of her stomach.

**You grew up good, Thornberry.**


	2. Call Me Maybe

Notes: Sorry this took FOREVER. I couldn't figure out why I was so unhappy with the first draft of this chapter until I tried completely rewriting it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy. I should probably mention that this story is unbeta'd so any and all spelling or grammatical mistakes are my own to apologize for. Sorry!

**Lights ~ Late November**

**Chapter 2: Call Me Maybe**

Maurice twiddled the pencil between his fingers, precariously balancing on the back legs of his chair. He could hear the rise and fall of his agent's voice in the other room, fighting with the festival's coordinators for the best time slot.

He slumped forward, his face and arms resting heavily on his desk, all four chair legs flat on the floor now.

He hated this in between time. The waiting and the pitching. The meetings, the sell outs, the price tags. Not that he didn't appreciate getting paid to make his movies, he just wished it could happen without all the hassle. He wanted to wrap up a project one day, see his meager savings increase somewhat the next, and then immediately start shooting again.

His hand itched when it wasn't holding a camera, even though that was happening less and less these days. For his most recent film, he'd had his first cinematographer, and while he still framed more than half the shots, it was really a different feel not being the sole person behind the camera.

Mainly it was the waiting that got to him though. He didn't want to be cooped up in his office waiting for the "thumbs up" from Chris, the agent. He was Reggie's idea. She didn't want her little brother's best friend getting scammed by big movie corporations.

Maurice poked at the phone that lay beside his hand and pulled up his recent messages, scrolling back to the previous Tuesday.

Eliza's response still made him smile after four days.

**Not too shabby yourself, Twister.**

His fingers instinctively started to respond, but he sighed and turned off the screen before he began.

He wasn't kidding when he said she'd looked good. She'd finally grown into those teeth she'd been wrangling in metal as a kid, and that long red hair was really beautiful when it wasn't trapped in braids.

He'd wished for his camera the moment he saw her, even before he realized he knew her. The way the dim light of the bar, reflected off the loose strands around her face. The way she tipped her glass, the liquid tracing it's way across the rim. The bored expression on her face. He wanted to frame it all and watch her story unfold.

He wondered afterwards how someone with a childhood like hers would ever be content with a life in an apartment in a city with barely a tree per square block.

The day after their meeting, he flipped open his phone with every intention of calling her and inviting her to lunch. Nothing too exciting, just two friends catching up. Then he started thinking about her, and he paced the floor around his coffee table thinking about the way the lighting at the bar hit her so perfectly, and the way she'd grown up so well. He thought about the last time he'd seen her, back when they were kids and he wondered if he had any of that old footage. It took him two hours and a call to Otto to track it down, but he found the old reel he'd taken during her visit.

Some of the shots were too grainy, aged from sitting in Otto's garage shelves while others were too quiet to hear. He did manage to find two good ones though.

The first was of Eliza ahead on the beach with the pet monkey she had. She was making monkey sounds to him, and she grinned to the camera, when she caught it focused on her. The guys must have been watching him film because as they camera approached her, Maurice heard Otto's voice say something like "She knows, she looks crazy when she does that right?" and young Twister laughed in response.

Eliza was explaining to the gang why the sea lions lounged on the beach and Maurice watched the video of her, so vibrant and excited and felt that itch to be behind a camera again.

The second recording was of Eliza alone. She was standing on the pier, leaning against the soggy railing, her braids flying wild in the sea breeze and the sun glinting off all the metal in her mouth. She turned to the camera and smiled, saying something to him that the sound of the wind blurred together to which young Twister responded, "Most days."

Maurice leaned up from the desk as the sound of his agent's voice quieted. He hadn't brought it up to Chris yet, this possible idea that was rolling around his head. He knew Chris would fight him. They still had festivals lined up through the end of the year and a number of publicity events that Chris continued increasing.

Still.

Maurice felt that itch in his hands and eyes, to squint through the narrow lens of his camera and frame the perfect shot. His head filled with lighting angles, perspectives, all centered around that frighteningly loud, and slightly know it all girl from his childhood that had somehow morphed in the loveliest woman he can ever remember seeing.

All that knowledge from her adolescence had given her a quiet intelligence, apparent to him even as she sat across him in a darkened bar. Her movements were precise, even her seemingly careless ones. She was an enigma that girl.

Or at least, that's what he thought.

He realized he was probably idealizing her, and it wasn't the first time he'd been inspired to create a film about a woman he may or may not be smitten with. But this was different.

He knew she had a story worth telling. He just wasn't sure what it was. And he couldn't ask her to be part of his project without having any idea what the project was.

He slumped back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling, searching the skies he couldn't see for inspiration.

He thought about all the things he knew and had looked up about her since their chance meeting. He knew about her childhood traveling the globe, the one of her teenage years spent in a boarding school before going back to the wild life of her documenting parents, and finally college once her parents had retired. Most recently she'd spent the last two years here in Los Angeles working as a curator at the Natural History Museum. From all that Maurice could tell, it was the longest she'd ever spent in one place.

Her entire life was a story worth telling, but hidden in there was the one story that would be the most interesting and Maurice was hunting for it.

A crisp knock on the door brought Maurice back to reality. Chris popped his head in the door. "Sealed the deal. Not a problem. Got you the best slot you could've asked for, right in the middle of the festival. Seriously, we couldn't have..."

Chris flopped himself down on the couch in front of Maurice's desk, expertly casual and Maurice's glanced back at his phone, all of Chris' rambling fading to white noise, wondering if he'd ever manage to call her.

"…play and play and play, but I won't let them..."

Maurice's looked back at him. "Wait, what? Play in play?"

Chris smiled, that talent agent smile and repeated, "Play and play," stressing the 'and.' "Yep, those coordinators try to string me along, but you've got the best in the biz..."

But Maurice's mind was racing away, the words tumbling in his head.

_Play in play in play..._

Maurice stood up suddenly, stopping Chris mid sentence as he continued to explain the miraculous deed he'd accomplished by getting Maurice into whatever festival was coming up first.

Chris watched as Maurice walked over to the bookshelf beside him and pulled out a thin paperback.

"Chris, can you do me a favor and call up Lor?"

The agent's smile fell as confusion overtook his features. "The cinematographer? "I told you, we already sent her an invitation to the thing."

Maurice opened the small book in his hands and flipped through the pages, occasionally sliding his fingers down the lines in deep concentration.

"No, ask her if she's got another job already."

This floored the agent. "What?"

"Tell her I need her. We'll be starting shooting almost immediately."

"Wait. What?" Chris rearranged his agape expression into that slick smile. "Whoa, slow down, you're not making any sense. We just finished our edits. We've gotta push this now, Maurice."

His client was barely listening, having seemingly found the page he was looking for. Maurice scanned quickly down the page, his lips moving ever so slightly as he read.

"Just tell her to meet me as soon as it's convenient."

"Maurice."

His eyes never leaving the page, Maurice grabbed his phone off the desk and headed for the open door.

"Sorry, Chris. I need to make a call."


End file.
